


A fist of wires

by TheWeirdDane



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Butt Plugs, Cigarettes, Face Slapping, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Robot Sex, Robots, Slapping, idk what that 'connor/connor' tag means but im going with it lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 00:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15376479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Connor has been naughty, and RK900 takes it upon himself to correct him.





	A fist of wires

Connor was on his knees, his upper body leaning in over the bed, his arms tied together behind him. He wasn’t programmed to feel pain, feel anything, really, but ever since he went deviant, he felt a lot of things that he wasn’t _supposed_ or _programmed_ to.

One of those things being what humans called pleasure. Hotness surging through him, his circuitry crackling, his wires becoming too hot. System errors popping up before his eyes. He moaned keenly and spread his legs wider to allow RK900 better access to the plug in his ass.

“Please,” he whispered and turned his head to look at the taller, more stoic android who stood silently behind him, “please, Nine, I can’t take this much longer, my core is overheating.”

A deep snicker, and the plug was pulled out, ripping a wanton whimper from Connor.

“What a pity. I thought you had more self-control than that, Eight. I thought you better than this.”

Connor was practically trembling by the time RK900 slid his fingers inside him, fingering his ass and making so much pleasure, _too much pleasure_ , rush through him.

“Please!” It was a loud, almost broken sound, a whimper, a _plea_.

“Do you want to overheat?” RK900 asked in a low, hushed voice and thrust his fingers as deep inside Connor as he could. Connor nodded furiously, grinding back against the slick fingers that felt so _fucking_ good.

“Then prove to me why you’re worthy of my attention.”

Connor let out a broken sob and, with quite a lot of effort, turned around to kneel by RK900’s feet. He looked up at his successor who looked down at him with a smug smile on his face.

“Come. Let’s go to the living room. No, no no, you don’t get to walk; you crawl like the animal you are, got it?” RK900 said when Connor leaned against him to try and get up. Connor whimpered but nonetheless crawled over the floor, trying so hard not to fall. It was hard with his arms tied together behind him, but he was nothing if not determined.

RK900 sauntered towards the living room where he sat on the couch, not even bothering to turn his head to see if Connor was following; he knew he wouldn’t be far behind.

Finally, Connor reached the couch and settled between RK900’s legs, plopping his head against his knee and looking up at him like a puppy wanting a treat. RK900 smiled and grabbed his hair tightly, yanking his head back to elicit a shameful moan that dusted his cheeks a bright blue.

He had rarely felt so alive. Not even on cases with lieutenant Anderson, not even when he had to round up dangerous deviants had he felt this good, this _thriving_.

As RK900 looked down at him with those irritatingly beautiful grey eyes, Connor felt his wires grow hotter, and he squirmed slightly.

“Getting a bit needy, are we, Eight?” he asked, and his voice was even and deep, _taunting_ , and he let go of Connor’s hair to stroke it. Mockingly gently, _deceptively_ kind.

Connor knew better. He had tried this before; he loved this. The humiliation, the rush, the crackling of his wires, how _good_ he felt.

The slap was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Connor’s head jerked to the side with the force, and he let out a groan before turning his head back to look up at the other android.

“You are to answer when I ask you a question. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Connor whispered.

“Good. Now, I’m sure you can see how dirty my shoes are. And I know how fond of analyzing you are. So, I trust you know what to do.”

Connor looked down at RK900’s shoes, seeing that they were spotless. His LED flashing yellow in an attempt to analyze the situation, he didn’t waste time, but simply wriggled back and bent over so he could touch his lips to the black, sleek shoes that fit him so well.

When he kissed the shoes, RK900’s hand came down to rest in his hair, and there was the faintest groan from above him, something Connor prided himself in; his ability to make RK900 lose his composition. RK900’s hand tightened in his hair as Connor let his tongue slide over the shoe, and he made another sound that got Connor’s stomach to do flips.

As Connor licked the shoes, RK900 pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a metal lighter. Connor didn’t know what he got out of smoking, but he had to admit there was something ungodly attractive about the way he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it up.

He kept licking RK900’s shoes until he could barely take anymore; his system was slowly but steadily going into overdrive, and his wires and cords were hotter than they had been in a long, long time.

“Look up at me,” RK900 said after a while, and Connor obeyed. He lifted his head to cast his gaze at the other android. The android who was so stoic and unemotional, so impassive. His eyes, haunting and thrilling at the same time, betrayed nothing. His lips were a thin line on his face. His hair, brown and pushed back save for a tuft, looked impeccable.

He was strikingly handsome, and Connor almost hated himself for thinking it. But he also felt a streak of pride, knowing that this was his successor; this was another version of _him_. They had thought him good enough to further work with.

Connor’s eyes fell on the cigarette, and he swallowed nothing. Then his eyes darted back up to those of RK900.

“You like me smoking? The probability of you wanting me to snuff it out on your skin is… high.”

Connor’s wires practically throbbed.

“Please,” he whispered, hoarse and tight, and writhed in his restraints. RK900 flashed a smug smile and removed the cigarette from his lips, instead let it hover over Connor’s cheek. Connor, whose unnecessarily human breathing had gotten shallow and heavy. Connor, whose hair had gone out of place, now a tousled mess. Connor, whose eyes were dark and hazy with desire, with pure need. Connor, who almost, _almost_ , leaned up to touch his cheek to the white-hot, lit end of the cigarette.

But he didn’t. He was a good boy, he would wait until Nine snuffed it out on his skin. The mere thought sent his mind reeling, making his LED flash bright yellow, then red for a fraction of a second.

“Eight?” It wasn’t exactly _worry_ in his voice, wasn’t even remotely compassion, but it was _something_.

Connor shook his head and stuck out his tongue to lick it over RK900’s hand, moaning a little and making the other android laugh. A deep and wonderful sound that Connor could never get enough of. He hard it so rarely.

Then the cigarette came down upon his cheek, and Connor cried out in pain, very real and very human pain.

Going deviant had been one of the best decisions he had ever made. Even if it wasn’t as much his ‘fault’ as it was Markus’. This silver-tongued android, who had the persuasiveness of a politician and the kindness of a devoted father. Markus, who could talk an entire nation into giving the androids their freedom and end their slavery. Markus, who had been the very front-figure of the android revolution.

Markus, who had made Connor see who he really was, who _CyberLife_ really was.

The cigarette burnt and stung his artificial skin, and he felt tears well up into his eyes. Blinking them away, he looked up at RK900 who gave a small, smug smile and removed the cigarette. Connor’s entire body sagged against him; when had he gone so tense?

“Would you look at that,” he said, his voice all deceiving warmth and kindness, “it’s still lit. Whatever should we do about that?”

Connor writhed and squirmed in RK900’s lap, desperate for more. His nodes were begging to be touched, his wires burning hot, and while there were fewer system errors than before, a good handful still popped up before his eyes now and then.

“Nin---Sir,” he panted and struggled to sit up properly, so he could kiss at the perfect skin of RK900’s shoulder, “Sir, please, I need it, my system, my core--- it’s so hot.”

RK900 sighed, and his eyes darted from the cigarette to Connor’s hopelessly adorably puppy eyes. Puppy eyes that were usually so analyzing, calculating. Now puppy eyes that were hazy, glassed over with desire.

“Come up here and kiss me then.”

Connor didn’t dawdle, immediately fought to climb onto the couch. RK900 didn’t help him, simply watched him with a crooked grin on his face and the lit cigarette in his hand. The embers smoldered, threatened to fall.

Once Connor had managed to straddle the other android’s lap, RK900 hummed thoughtfully and slowly, ever so slowly, ran a hand through Connor’s hair. It was a gesture so kind of nature it could almost be called loving, affectionate.

But Connor knew better, and he hissed a fraction of a second before the hand turned into a fist and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. He fought to lean forward, fought to kiss him. But RK900 was so much stronger, had him in an iron grip exactly where he wanted.

“I don’t see you kissing me,” he said, voice cold and hard, devoid of compassion and the humanity that Connor _knew_ he could fake.

Connor let out a broken sound and pushed forward enough that he could feel some strands being pulled out. RK900 looked almost impressed when he managed to kiss at the android’s shoulder, then his neck.

“Is this better?” Connor rasped and pressed his soft, delicate lips against the artificial skin. He loved the small chuckle it elicited.

“Much. You’re finally learning, boy. I applaud you.” If he had had a heart, Connor was sure he would have felt the thing humans described as ‘having their heart swell’. But seeing as he was made of wires and plastic and biocomponents, all the praise did for him was making his cords grow hotter and causing small sparks to fly between them, making him utter an unsteady moan.

“Thank you, sir,” Connor whispered. The hand in his hair disappeared, and immediately, he went in to kiss RK900.

It was a sloppy kiss; Connor was so eager, maybe _too_ eager, his mouth filling with a light blue fluid that was a mix of thirium and saliva. Their lips pressed together, and RK900 couldn’t resist pulling Connor firmer against him, thus making the smaller android whimper in the back of his throat.

RK900 was mindful of his lit cigarette for all of five seconds, careful not to let the embers touch Connor’s skin. But after those five seconds, he pressed the end to Connor’s shoulder and relished the agonized, yet pleasure-riddled scream that left him. RK900 didn’t let up - he rubbed the embers into his skin, snuffing out his cigarette, and Connor buckled above him, body trembling and lips spilling gasps and moans like this was all he ever wanted.

“I wonder if you genuinely enjoy this,” RK900 mused, watching Connor’s expression shift between pain and pleasure. Hissing, lips twitching, eyes widening, brows frowning.

“I wonder---”

“You-You don’t have to wonder,” Connor panted and pressed into the cigarette, the pain growing almost too big, almost a tad too strong, but Connor absolutely loved it, “I promise, sir, I love it. One might even say that I need it. My system is getting so warm, please help alleviate some of it, I---”

“Is that begging I hear, Eight?” He sounded smug, smug as hell, and if he had been able to, Connor would have punched him square in the face. If nothing else, then for the punishment that would follow such blatant disrespect and disobedience.

Instead, he blushed a bright blue and whined. RK900 still had the cigarette to his skin, still burned him, and it was so fucking good, but his core was rapidly overheating. Error messages popped up before his eyes here and there, warning him of imminent shutdown if the problem was not resolved.

“S-Sir, please,” he whimpered and closed his eyes, panting heavily in an attempt to ventilate himself, “I’m going to… going to---”

He didn’t get to tell RK900 what was going to happen, because in the next second, RK900 had slid a hand down the back of Connor’s neck and fondled a small series of lines that were only visible to an android’s eyes.

Fondling them made a small panel pop up with a soft hiss, exposing the wires and nodes in the back of Connor’s neck and his upper back.

Connor sagged against RK900’s chest and breathed shakily. Yes yes yes, if Nine would just touch his wires, he would be done for in seconds---

RK900 _did_ touch his wires. He grabbed a fistful of them and rubbed his fingers over them, no doubt feeling the sparks that flew between them, because he let out a small moan that Connor only just barely heard over the insistent beeping in his head.

He knew his LED was flashing bright red, and he knew he would soon overheat, and he knew he _needed_ it, needed it like humans needed air and water.

The pleasure running through him became too much, and Connor opened his mouth wide, eyes growing big, and he stiffened as RK900 fingered his wires mercilessly, and before he knew it, he shut down.

There was complete darkness and silence. There were no thoughts, no feelings, no emotions, nothing at all.

Then he woke up again, and he was slightly confused to find himself laying against the chest of his successor, but in the next few seconds, everything came rushing back to him.

He let out a shaky moan and wriggled up into a sitting position to look at RK900.

RK900 flashed a smug smile and ran a hand through Connor’s messed-up hair in that same deceptively kind way, but Connor didn’t care. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, making soft sounds in the back of his throat while RK900 stroked his hair.

“I trust that was satisfactory.”

Connor nodded.

“More than you can fathom.”

“Are you calling me stupid?” RK900 asked, and his hand paused. Connor shook his head and looked up at the taller android.

“No, no no no, not at all!”

“Good. If you had, you would be in for it.”

Connor blushed faintly and ducked his head. Truth be told, he wanted to see how far RK900 would be willing to go. He had a feeling that the answer was _very far_.

But that was an experiment for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


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